


The Wandering Days

by TheLittleMuse



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Nobody dies and everything is good, Short 'n' Sweet, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleMuse/pseuds/TheLittleMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the journey the dwarves had all been entertained by Bilbo's stories. Once they reach Erebor they find Bilbo has one last story left in him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wandering Days

“Bilbo! Tell us a story,” Bofur yelled and the rest of the dwarves laughed. Along the journey, once they had warmed up to Bilbo, Bilbo’s wry, humorous stories had kept them all going more than they would like to admit.

Bilbo laughed and then leant back, an odd look coming onto his face like he was remembering something from long ago. Bofur found himself wondering what sort of story they would get tonight.

“I could tell you about The Wandering Days,” said Bilbo eventually, staring into the fire. Balin felt Gandalf shift slightly beside him.

“The Wandering Days?” asked Thorin.

“The days before the Hobbits found the Shire,” Bilbo gave a small smile, “They’ve passed into stories now. Nobody remembers The Wandering Days. Not our fathers or our grandfathers, or even Old Took. But there was a time when the Hobbits passed from place to place, finding work in the towns of men. It was not hard to find work, for we may not be warriors, miners or great kings, but the trades we know, we know well. We always moved, though, never settling down, for we always dreamed of finding a place of our own.

“Inevitably some grew tired. They had found some peace in the towns of men. Food and a warm bed was not a thing to be sneered at and they began to doubt that there was a place that the Hobbits could truly call their own.

“There was one, though, who would not give up in any circumstance. One who took the lead and who, through his bravery, wisdom and character, would lead the Hobbits to the Shire. Our stories have given him many names, but he is our true ancestor. The Hobbit of The Shire. He knew in his heart that there was a land waiting for them. Many fell to sickness and cold, but still they travelled on. And then, just as the first lights were showing and the blooms and green of spring were beginning to appear they saw it.

“The Shire, my dear dwarves, The Shire. If only I could convey to you the love we have for our land and that it has for us, for from the moment those First of the Shirelings, the last of The Wanderers looked upon The Shire they knew that that was their home.”

Bilbo took a deep breath, then let it out, realising he had nothing more to say. Thorin gave him a small nod and said, “Thank you.”

“And that’s why I came,” Bilbo murmured the last words too quiet for any to hear, but as he watched the dwarves laugh, feast and rebuild their home, he thought they understood.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so it's too short and a little bit rubbish and I've played with Tolkein's history of the Hobbits just a little bit, but it's my headcanon that Bilbo learnt these stories of the first Hobbits of The Shire when he was a child, some funny, some sad, some adventurous, and it affected him greatly. So when he saw the Dwarves, after being annoyed and scared by them, he identified with them. He had been brought up to love the Shire and remember those who found it and so really felt the loss the dwarves had gone through. And he was just dying for an adventure of his own, deep down.


End file.
